


Sunday Morning

by borkybarnes



Category: Batgirl (Comics), Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Batman and Robin (Comics), DCU, DCU (Comics), Nightwing (Comics), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics), Red Robin (Comics), Robin (Comics)
Genre: Banter, Bat Brothers, Bat Family, Bat Family watches scooby doo, Cassandra Cain is Black Bat, Cute, Damian Wayne is Robin, Dick Grayson is Nightwing, Family Fluff, Fluff, Gen, Jason Todd is Red Hood, Sunday mornings, Tim Drake is Red Robin, Wayne Manor has rules, my attempt at DC, the scooby doo plots are made up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-13
Updated: 2018-08-13
Packaged: 2019-06-27 01:42:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15675483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/borkybarnes/pseuds/borkybarnes
Summary: “Can you imagine how easy it’d be if that’s how all our cases ended?” Dick chuckled, slurping the remnants of milk loudly. Damian cringed and moved towards the couch’s arm.Jason snorted, “Can you imagine Bruce setting up all those traps?”“More like Drake,” Damian piped up, and Dick laughed, clapping his hands. “Then Todd would be that bumbling idiot, Shaggy.”Jason glared and said, “Whatever you say, Scoob.”Damin scowled. “I am not the dog.”(Alternatively: A regular Sunday morning at Wayne Manor, where Alfred and Bruce enacted a "no chaos until noon" rule in the Official Rules and Regulations of Wayne Manor.)





	Sunday Morning

For the past month and a half, Sunday mornings were peaceful at Wayne Manor. There was a rule that Alfred and Bruce had made recently, adding it to the document entitled “Official Rules and Regulations of Wayne Manor”. It said that all Sunday mornings, which officially ended at noon, were to be quiet and restful. No voice raising, picking fights, complaining about anyone else, etc.

 

Damian didn’t know how he really felt about the rule. He sat on the couch with _The Hobbit_ in his lap and Titus on the cushion beside him, enjoying the quietude, when Dick Grayson burst in with a cheerful “good morning”, a bowl of Lucky Charms, and a wild nest of hair.

 

Damian eyed his (favorite, though he’d rather be dead than admit it aloud) older brother carefully as Dick grabbed the remote off the coffee table. He turned the TV on to one of the older versions of _Scooby-Doo, Where Are You?_ and leaned back, shoveling cereal into his mouth. Damian rolled his eyes and lifted the book to his face, trying to drown out that green-shirted oaf’s voice. _“Like, Scoob,” Shaggy said, voice cracking, “I don’t think we’re alone.”_

 

Jason walked in next, shirtless and unbothered by Damian’s disdainful stares. He made a face at the television. “This is the worst episode.”

 

Dick shrugged. “I like it.”

 

“Of course you do.”

 

“Come on, Jason!” Dick chirped, “Sit down and enjoy it. No fighting, remember?” He wagged his finger, all too pleased with the conflict crossing his younger brother’s face.

 

Jason huffed but gently nudged Titus over and plopped down in between Dick and Damian himself. Biting his tongue as the couch dipped with Jason’s weight, Damian refused to let an insult fly from his mouth. Last time he’d broken the sacred Sunday rule, Alfred and Bruce had banned Damian from feeding Titus from the table for a week. That whole week was filled with pitiful whines and sad eyes from the dog, and Damian’s will being tested beyond its limits. Jason also mercilessly teased him, and he and Damian had gotten into a record number of scuffles.

 

Jason peeked at Damian’s book and said, “I seriously can’t believe you’re reading something _I_ recommended.” He raised his eyebrow, a smirk growing.

 

“Please, Todd. I’m reading it because the librarian at school said I’d like it,” Damian scoffed, muttering under his breath, “Stop trying to make your head bigger.”

 

“You’re such a little—”

 

Dick stopped the impending fight by wedging himself between them, soggy cereal dangerously close to spilling. Damian snapped, “Watch yourself, Grayson.”

 

Tim, who was about to drag himself tiredly into the living room, turned around upon seeing the beginning of Damian’s ire. Cassandra, who was directly behind him, followed him back up the stairs.

 

Dick had the audacity to laugh and ruffle Damian’s hair. “Look!” On screen, Velma pulled out a silver hair from the coat pocket of the villain’s costume. _“I know who’s hair this is.”_

 

“I would hope so,” Damian grumbled, crossing his arms and placing the book on the end table.

 

Jason bit back, “Don’t insult Velma.”

 

“Sorry, Todd, didn’t mean to offend your girlfriend.”

 

“Guys,” Dick sighed, “stop.”

 

_Fred yanked the mask off the villain, and the group gasped, “Mayor Redburg?”_

_Shaggy asked, “But, like, why?”_

 

“Can you imagine how easy it’d be if that’s how all our cases ended?” Dick chuckled, slurping the remnants of milk loudly. Damian cringed and moved towards the couch’s arm.

 

Jason snorted, “Can you imagine Bruce setting up all those traps?”

 

“More like Drake,” Damian piped up, and Dick laughed, clapping his hands. “Then Todd would be that bumbling idiot, Shaggy.”

 

Jason glared and said, “Whatever you say, _Scoob_.”

 

Damin scowled. “I am _not_ the dog.”

 

Dick snickered but said, “Seriously, guys, stop. At noon, fight all you want but we still have three hours until then.”

 

Tim crept back in, clutching the mug Stephanie had gotten him for Christmas filled with coffee. “Is it safe?” he asked, voice still laced with sleep.

 

Titus jumped off the couch and padded off. Dick nodded and schooched over, clearing a space. “Yeah, we’re watching old cartoons.”

 

The theme for _Scooby-Doo_ came on, marking the start of a new episode. Tim hummed along, and Jason drummed his fingers to the rhythm.

 

“Good morning, boys,” Bruce said as he strolled in. Sunday mornings were rare times to see _the_ Bruce Wayne, Batman himself, relaxed and still in his pajamas by nine o’clock.

 

“Morning, Brucie,” Dick replied, smiling all the while. Jason lifted a hand in a greeting, and Tim gave a tired nod.

 

“Good morning, Master Bruce.” Damian almost jumped at Alfred’s voice. He whirled around to see their butler standing by the doorway, dressed in a pressed suit.

 

“How long have you been there?” Dick dramatically placed a hand over his chest. “Are you _trying_ to kill me, Alfred?”

 

“Not at all, Richard. Very sorry.” There was a sly glint in the butler’s eye. Damian smirked slightly.

 

Bruce sat on the chair perpendicular to the the couch and nodded to the TV. “Who do you think stole the queen’s ring?”

 

“The daughter,” Dick declared. “She’s being very cagey.”

 

Jason rolled his eyes. “Please, it’s the queen’s sister. She thinks the ring in rightfully hers.”

 

Damian huffed, “You’re both wrong. It’s an unintroduced character. Perhaps it’ll be somebody who’s acting as if they’re helping, but in reality, they’re trying to lead the team astray.”

 

Tim sighed. “You realize none of these episodes will ever be that complex, right?”

 

“Shut up, Drake. It could happen.”

 

Cassandra was the last to arrive, taking a seat on the other side of Damian. She offered a quiet greeting and a small smile before turning her full attention to the television. “Alfred, please,” Bruce said, motioning to the chair beside him. “Sit.”

 

“Thank you, Master Bruce,” Alfred replied, sitting down. Just as he settled in, the phone on the side table began to ring. He picked it up before Bruce could, saying, “Hello, Wayne Manor… Ah, Mr. Kent… I’m well, thank you. Bruce is right here.”

 

“Hello, Clark… I see… we’ll be there shortly.” Bruce smiled ruefully. “I’m afraid we’re needed at headquarters.” As he stood, he said, “All of us.”

 

Dick groaned and heaved himself off the couch, Jason grunting and following. Cassandra and Damian were next, and the latter dragged Tim off the cushions. “Just because you look like a slug doesn’t mean you need to act like one, Drake.”

 

“I’m too tired to respond to that.”

 

“Guys, we’re still in the house,” Dick reminded them. “Play nice, Damian.”

 

With a smirk, Damian shrugged. “I’ll try my best, Grayson.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, everyone! I was kind of nervous to post this... I know this is a bit different since it's DC and all, but I love the Bat Family so much, and I've been wanting to write for them for a while. I hope you all enjoyed this!


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